


Dance with me in the Rain why don't you

by HenloThurrr



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Ghost Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Ghostbur, Hurt Wilbur Soot, M/M, Tags Are Hard, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot Angst, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, Wilbur Soot-centric, kind of???, no beta we die like wilbur, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:06:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HenloThurrr/pseuds/HenloThurrr
Summary: He faintly registered the sizzling that began to echo in his ears as he stared forward, blank white eyes trained on the broken remains of a country who lost its own way long ago; one that ran its course several times over.Was this what it felt like to drown?_______Aka: Me still not being over Doomsday and me taking matters into my own hands. What will Henlo do? No clue.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Clay | Dream/Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 7
Kudos: 89





	Dance with me in the Rain why don't you

**Author's Note:**

> For this to be somewhat canon-compliant, keep the ship, and not have me feel bad about writing dream as a decently good person, I'm going to say for the sake of this fic that Dream was not a complete asshole who gaslit and manipulated Tommy while in exile because then I just feel terrible for trying to give his character the sympathy and softness I'm trying to.

The moment ghostbur first set foot onto the grounds surrounding L’manberg, he could tell something was _wrong._

Swift winds began to drift around him, swirling and encompassing him before moving on. It just barely pushed himself towards the prime path, the one that would lead the ghost directly into the glorious city that he once _destroyed_ rebuilt. The sensation left tingles upon the now naturally default cold pale skin that would remain forever, never to be changed or warmed up. A faint giggle left the main as he began to float along the wooden path. A small tune found itself in his mind, playing on loop. There was no L’manberg national anthem, but it was still as nice.

An appreciation for those small feelings had recently been developing. It was becoming harder to grab things, Ghostbur found. Hands would slip through and pass objects of the simplest design. Books, lanterns, leads, anything. Perseverance could only take one oh so far after all. 

Speaking of leads, that reminded the now-humming ghost of what he was going to the city for. Friend! Oh how he missed the feeling of hugging his personal sheep companion, the blue wool underneath pale and slender fingers, the occasional bleating of the enthusiastic animal. Friend was what could only be described as perfect. And he was his best friend! The best!

What more could a friendly ghost ask for?

The rumbling of clouds just above him was something the ghost paid little mind to. A little rain wouldn’t hurt anybody, well, actually, it could very well hurt him not that he thought about it. But that was okay! Phil had a house in l’manberg. If there’s anything that Ghostbur could count on, it was the fact that his father was reliable. All he could ever remember of the man were the occasions where he could rely on his dad to come to his aid, help when the world seemed to be against him when the skies were grey instead of beautiful blue. And so he trusted Phil to take care of Friend for him, after all, Phil promised! And Philza Minecraft promises were sacred.

~~_But what about that time he promised to be back for your birthdays and nearly missed almost all of them?_ ~~

~~_What about when he promised you and Tommy that you could come on a next adventure only to leave you behind?_ ~~

~~_What about then, huh?_ ~~

~~**_N Ever MIND_ ** ~~

White blank eyes devoid of any pupils or irises found themselves closed. The ghost knew his way around the lands of the SMP, it was impossible not to know what all of his drifting about. The small tune from before turned into vocalization, half-heartedly recalling a melody from a lifelong past. 

_“It's the time of the season_

_When love runs high_

_In this time, give it to me easy”_

Words came to him out of nowhere but even so they flowed just as easily. Something about them seemed familiar enough that it didn’t hurt to continue. They sounded pleasant, pleasing to his own ears as his echoey voice reverbed the words for anyone to hear. 

The path he was walking was isolated as were the rest of the grounds for the SMP. No one was in sight. None of the cabinet running around to try and complete their daily tasks, none of the people from el rapids surging around and having fun with one another as they played pranks and ran, none of the knights of Ted standing guard or protecting the proclaimed newly reinstated kin Eret. It felt _empty._ Even so, the singing ghost continued on his merry way to reach his destination. 

_“...take you in the sun to promised lands”_ Ghostbur could feel his destination growing closer by the second, judging by how long he was taking. A faint _‘sizzle’_ briefly borrowed him out of his uplifting mood, quickly getting him to open his eyes and grab his eyes. A few scattered droplets of rain had hit his bright yellow sweater dead on his shoulder, sinking past the material and hitting his dead skin. While certain sensations had been removed, pain was certainly not one of them. If his pace suddenly sped up to avoid what he assumed would be more rain to follow, nobody said anything. Not like they could with no one around. 

And just like nothing ever happened, the humming continued once again and slowly transitioned back into singing. “, To show you everyone” he sang, voice coarse and rough in just the right ways that still qualified as pleasing. Thoughts of what they could do today began to form as the brunette began to walk down the descending steps of the prime path just a ways past Tommy’s house. Perhaps a tea party? It wasn’t as if he could drink it but perhaps everyone else would! Maybe Phil, Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo, maybe even Technoblade! Oh how exciting!

All his excitement, however, was quickly washed away in an instant as white eyes befell upon what was left of the once precious city.

_“It's the time of the season for loving… ”_

Ghostbur’s voice quickly shriveled up, no air threatening to leave his mouth as he felt his body still. No noise left him except for a small gasp that saw the destruction before him. That airy, flowy feeling that came with being a ghost began to find itself irrelevant as there appeared something to be growing in the male’s stomach. Dread, devastation perhaps? Whatever it was, he _hated_ it. 

Obsidian grids decorated the skies over the city of what used to be L’manberg, dropping small red bundles of TNT at a rapid pace that the ghost’s eyes couldn’t possibly keep up with. New sounds of destruction and screaming that weren’t there before became ever so present. Different voices called out, screaming different things at people, different calls for help ringing through the air. Every second there was a new ‘Boom!’ going off in a new location, the ground beneath him shaking just a bit more with every moment. Countless buildings that he recalled himself and others pouring several hours of dedication into, _My sewer, The lanterns, The marketplace, The Crane, e v e r y t h i n g_ , was gone in a matter of what seemed to be seconds. Barely anything remained in the hole that once upon a time resembled a place where men could go to emancipate, _his_ home. 

What _happened_ here?

Faint image briefly flashed through Will’s mind一 _the chirp and fond bleating of a blue sheep_ 一and range true causing the ghost to let go of another gasp. His feet started moving before his mind could even catch up, the will to find Friend overtaking anything else. The location of where Phil’s house used to stand, proud and tall, was reduced to almost nothing as the ashes of its remains laid unbothered and forgotten by its owner. Not even the deep basement remained, the same one that Wilbur eagerly and desperately searched for his cerulean companion. 

What he found instead was a burnt tuff of blue wool.

One burnt tuff of blue wool that he refused to let go of as a haze of sadness overcame him. No, it can’t be… no no no no nO NO NO-

A shaky hand fished through his inventory, bringing out a piece of blue, one of his favorites, and carefully gripping onto it like it would disappear forever. _Just like Friend._ A shaky breath left his mouth as he watched the blue clump in his hands almost immediately turn into a drastically darker shade of blue. Shit. The process of getting a new piece of blue and having it turn almost black saddened Ghostbur even more, the sounds of TNT echoing across the now destroyed city playing like a background record on loop. 

How did this even happen? Who was responsible for this? W-where is everyone? Where’s-

“Wilbur?” The sound of a figure settling down beside the sulking ghost who stood on top of what remained of Phil’s house caught the brunette’s attention. The man himself, Philza Minecraft, the supposed Angel of Death, the hero in all of Wilbur’s stories, _his father,_ placed a hand on Ghostbur’s shoulder. The hand immediately phased through and succeeded in getting the younger’s attention. 

“Phil?” The look of devastation on the ghost’s face temporarily alleviated itself as he saw that his father was alright. At least one thing was going well for him. “Phil, I-I don’t understand. We need to go, Phil, they’re destroying everything! They already got friend and I-i can’t bear the thought of them hurting you.” The ghost shuddered a bit, voice thick as he struggled to suppress his emotions to talk. “I mean, who would even do this.”

A quick flash of disdain overcame Philza’s face before being replaced by something akin to pity. It was no secret that Philza still held a bit of resentment towards the ghost. After all, that wasn’t his son. It never would be, not really. It may have looked like him, the Wilbur he once thought he knew, but he wasn’t the same. This figment didn’t have the charisma that his true son had, he didn’t have the analytical skills he had, he just wasn’t the same. But the look on the ghost’s face reminded him of a better time, one where his son was just a call away upstairs in his room, one where he didn’t leave for some god-forsaken SMP and never ended up returning home. It saddened him, truly. Out of respect for what the ghost had managed to still recover of his boy, Phil told the truth. 

“I did it.”

“Y-you… you _what_?”

Silence only penetrated by the sounds of more explosives going off and battle cries of people unknown to Wilbur’s mind rang through. It was as if the world had stopped rotating, the sun stopped shining, everything stopping. This, this was a terrible joke. This must be the part where Phil laughs like he always does with him, _at him,_ and says that he was on his way to fix everything like he always did. Yet at the same time, the expression frozen on Phil’s face, one of neutrality and boredom, could only let the ghost know that this, this wasn’t some fucking joke.

This was real.

“I did it. Myself, Technoblade, and Dream teamed up together to destroy this shithole of a city once and for all. This war was a long time coming in all honesty. At least now it’ll finally be nothing more than a chunk error for tourists to see.”

He sounded, he sounded _proud_. Proud of his efforts with the two most powerful people on the server. Proud of the destruction that he caused seemingly within minutes. The small smile on his face wrote him off as guilty, oh so guilty, and the sight of it all began to make Ghostbur sick beyond belief. 

He didn’t even know they were fighting. 

“Why did you, why did you blow up L’manberg Phil?” The ghost asked, Voice now creaking as he felt a surge of heat rise to his face, eyes now rapidly blinking as he stared at the last remains of Friend. The last thing he honestly had to himself.

  
  


There was a moment of silence once again as Philza settled upon an answer. The one he gave was, “We needed to send a message, Will.” Those words evoked a visceral reaction out of the ghost. Dark brown eyebrows narrowed as he listened to his father speak to him. 

“You knew friend was in your house,” was all that came after. Ghostbur’s voice had now become calmer, more collected. Phil took it as a sign that his ghost of a son was calming down, already getting ready to forget this memory ever happened. It wouldn’t be different from any of the others now, would it? It would be gone in a fleeting second and that stupid goofy smile that Phil was used to seeing would return.

But that was far from what actually happened.

“He’s got infinite canon lives, don’t worry-” The Avian’s attempts to coddle his son, to usher him into a more docile and content state were swatted away as Ghostbur’s face snapped up to look at his father. The action admittedly caught him off guard, a step taken back as his hand instinctively went to his sword. A quick expression of ‘Oh, that again? You think it’ll work a second time?’ flashed across the specter’s face before it exploded. 

“You knew Friend was in your house!” Ghostbur’s voice exploded with scalding hot fury. All his underlying emotions, the yucky gross and volatile ones that he struggled to submerge began to resurface. It felt disgusting to let out but so freeing to bask in once he was finished. “You knew, you knew everything everyone owned was in this town!”

Down his face streamed tears, dark blue inky tears that fell down like rain droplets. The bright yellow of his sweater was speckled with dark blue blotches, occasionally landing on the ground below him right through him. Something about his tone, the roughness, and franticness of it all brought Phil back into a small room with scribbled messages of nothingness around him and one sole button. If Phil was having doubts that what was left of his son was totally gone, those were immediately cast aside. Clenching the sweater on him, Ghost slightly leaned over as small whimpers overtook his body, small flinches coming from clashes of diamond and netherite from below. 

“I’ve read the history books, Phil,” He began as he turned to look over the destruction befallen upon the city he created once upon a life ago. “You, you slayed the dragon. You slayed Alivebur. You slayed the beast, we understand that. I praise you for it, I thank you for it. But this…. how can you look at what you’ve done and still call yourself a hero for this?. Sending a message Phil, sending a message?

“Yeah, not to start another govt. Not to take genuinely nice people and turn them against one another with power and corruption, that includes you too Will. they… they forced me to kill you, can’t you see? I don’t want to see it again.” Something in Phil’s voice turned sincere towards the end. Clearly seeing how distraught his son was brought something out, something he was struggling to keep under wraps. For so long, he didn’t want to indulge himself in getting what was a half-baked redo with his fake son. He wanted his real son back, the full Wilbur. Not some phantom of his memory. His time spent looking into resurrection wouldn’t be lost for nothing, he would make sure of it.

A scoff left the ghost, his will unwavering in his beliefs. “So you make me suffer? I don’t know what Alivebur did but I know what I did. I wrote books, made lanterns, houses, I built this town. I.. I didn’t hurt anyone and yet... I’m the one who pays.” Truly taking in the mess they made brought a sense of defeat. L’manberg… L’manberhg was his, his unfinished symphony. His to work on and repair, his to make up for what he did when he was alive. What was he now without that? Who honestly needed him? Who didn’t pity his sad existence of an empty shell on a man? 

“I know I'm forgetful, I know I'm an amnesiac, and I know I'm the comic relief in all of your stories, but I still feel this! I still feel things, and I try my best to make sure no-one else feels it!”

And just like that, the rain began. It started faint, a few drops here or there in the surrounding area until it became something much more. What was once a few became multiple and the rain entered the scene in full swing. Phil immediately went to look up, his hands reaching out to feel the refreshing feeling as if it could just wash away the guilt that was rising. He hadn’t meant to, well he did, he didn’t want this outcome. Would he have not done it at all? No, this country needed to go down. But perhaps there might have been a better way to shield his son from this pain- _sizzle._

A few more sizzles invaded his hearing as he turned around and faced Ghostbur, the man now on his knees with his shoulders relaxed. Said ghost faintly registered the sizzling that began to echo in his ears as he stared forward, blank white eyes trained on the broken remains of a country who lost its own way long ago; one that ran its course several times over. 

Was this what it felt like to drown? 

Parts of him began to melt away, slowly disappearing piece by piece as they continued to stand there. A part of Phil, a foolish part, tried to grab onto the only remnant left of his son. Instead, his hand only phased through bringing out a sound of confusion from the father. Straightening himself, Philza looked at Wilbur and put on his most fatherly tone.

“Will, get up. You have to move, the-the rain is coming down. You’re melting for christ’s sake.”

“Just… just let me go.”

Philza was met with strained sizzling, whether from the last remnants of TNT or the slow decay of the specter in front of him, Phil couldn’t tell. “I don’t have a place here anymore, Phil. I can tell by the looks people give me. I’m not who they want to see, I’m not Alivebur. I’m not Will. I’m not your Will. Even if I were to try, I can’t fix anything. I can’t do anything, I’m- I-I’m useless!” His tone inflicted upwards towards the end, a pathetic chuckle followed by a sob concluding his small speech.

A few calls in the distance caught Phil’s attention, a bright red shirt followed by a green one running towards them, his clawed hand going to grab onto the hilt of his diamond sword once again. The two figures, the two boys, his boys, halted once they saw Phil. Panic and fear displayed across their faces for the world to see. In the end, they pushed through to land on their knees beside the ghost. 

  
“Ghostbur? Hey man, you’re not looking too good! Let’s go somewhere dry okay?” Tommy tried to bargain with the ghost only to receive no response. His eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he let out a sound of crushed disbelief. The teen in question was becoming restless, desperate to move the ghost that stayed as firm as a rock despite his weightless form.

“Ghostbur, you’re dying! We need to get you out now!” Tubbo’s voice was shrill, the panic from facing technoblade and the rain of TNT over what used to be his city still fresh in his mind. 

“A good-for-nothing ghost. I… I think it's my time to go you guys, forever this time. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough boys, my failure as a brother extended across both lives I guess huh?” A weak chuckle left the ghost as a cough rattled through him, blue like blood coming up and straining the sleeve of his sweater.

The scene before them was finally beginning to calm down. Storm grey clouds reigned above while water rained down, the smoke from the crater rising ever so slowly. It was now a wasteland, a remnant of what used to be a beautiful place. 

  
“I heard there was a special place…” His voice still hoarse from all of the screaming and yelling from before rang out clear as day. His will to continue the song was fading by the second. At one point he didn’t even know why he began. Was it for old time's sake? No one knew, he sure as hell didn’t. 

_  
_ _“Was it a place where men could go to emancipate?”_

A new voice entered the chat. Two blondes and a brunette whipped their heads to look at the new voice, eyes widening at the newest arrival. 

Standing there clad in his green hoodie, all geared out with netherite everything and weapons maxed out to his suiting stood Dream. The blonde had his hood down, a white porcelain mask still covering his face. He smelled of gunpowder and ash, a display of his previously shown efforts. In his hand, he held a bright blue umbrella and in the other a tissue. Stepping carefully, the other three quickly moved away. Tommy and Tubbo moved in fear, wondering what he would do to them next, Phil in trepidation. They might have teamed up, sure, but they weren’t friends. 

Dream crouched down, squatting beside the ghost and holding the umbrella over both of them. The perpetual pelting of rain stopped destroying the ghost’s form and began to allow him to recover what was left of his body. Portions began to mend themselves, returning him to what he used to be.

“Dream?” Ghostbur’s voice was weak, frail, and gravely shot from the damage to his vocal cords. He was greeted with a smile from the masked man, the only portion of his face available being his mouth. One that could only be described as one used when greeting someone you deeply cared about, someone you were fond of.“Hi there Ghostbur. I’m sorry we had to meet like this but I came here to tell you something.”

“I can take away your pain,” Dream offered carefully, wiping away blue smudged near his mouth and his eyes. His voice was soft, soothing. Nothing at all compared to the crazed laughter coming from him as he dispensed several stacks of TNT. “This hurt? You don’t need it anymore.” The words were quick but they were all Ghostbur needed to hear.

“You can?” His eyes slightly widened and the portion of his family there froze, as fear grabbed ahold of them. “You can stop this pain?”

“Of course, I can end it all. I just need you to come with me, okay?” Standing back up, Dream tucked away the tissue and extended a hand to the ghost still on the rubble of his home. After a few seconds of thought, Wilbur gave his hand to Dream who was able to fully grab onto it.   
  
“Wait, Will!-”   
  


“Wilbur wait!”

“Ghostbur stop!”

The cries of his family went unnoticed as the ghost was grabbed by Dream and pulled close, close and away from his family. “Don’t worry, it’ll all be okay. For real this time, I swear. No more Wilbur, ghostbur, alivebur, nothing.” A faint ‘I don’t know about that’ left Dream’s lips as he took out and enderpearl. With a grand throw, the pearl shot away and took the pair with them. 

What was to happen now?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! This was my attempt at a one-shot and I'd love to know what you guys think of what I've written! Leave any comments, questions, kudos, or anything below if you'd like! I love reading them all whether they are brief or large paragraphs going into detail! Thanks again, have a lovely day/afternoon/evening!


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